Admissions and Apologies
by Taramisu
Summary: Buffy comes to terms with her actions and makes amends to the one she really loves. Post "Dead Things". S/B
1. Default Chapter

Admissions and Apologies 

Part 1

* * *

DATE: 2/9/02   
SUMMARY: Buffy comes to terms with her actions and makes amends to the one she really loves.   
RATING: PG-13 for one naughty word   
SPOILERS: Dead Things   


* * *

Time seemed to stand still as all the stress of the last months spewed forth onto Tara's lap. She was wrong. Very wrong. But not her body, or her soul. Her. Buffy. Elizabeth Anne Summers. The 20 year old woman. Wrong.  
  
She cried until the tears would not come any more. How could she have been so wrong? Why had she been so cruel to him? Her very best friends had been thrown to the back seat, while she selfishly focused on treating the one she really loved like shit.  
  
Suddenly, the blonde sat up and looked at Tara with puffy, red eyes, yet a grim smile just beneath. "I can fix this!"  
  
The wicca's eyes softened as she replied, "Of course, sweety. You can always try to…"  
  
"No! I WILL fix this." At that, she rose determinedly and marched out.  
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
The door opened without a knock, as usual. Buffy tentatively entered, her eyes struggling to adjust to the darkness within. Any inhabitants inside were not making their presence known, but she knew he was there. He was always there when she needed him.  
  
A sweet, apologetic voice filled his chamber. "I…I know I've been wrong. I've hurt you, ignored you, taken, taken and taken, yet never gave back anything but emptiness and loneliness. It's time I took you off the shelf and let you into the light. I…" Buffy stopped, thinking to herself, `I can do this. I will do this. I have to do this. I will be right for once.'  
  
"I love you. I've always loved you. For the last fifteen years I've loved you." A petite blonde woman gently reached up, grasped the small, furry, pink body and softly lifted him off a cold shelf. Her lips met his snout and kissed the little pig. "Mr. Gordo, I will never ignore you again."  
  
Several cuddles later, Mr. Gordo was placed back in his seat of honor, on her bed, amidst the pillows.  
  
"It's good to be a pig," Mr. Gordo thought.  



	2. 

Admissions and Apologies 

Part 2

* * *

DATE: 2/11/02   
SUMMARY: Buffy comes to terms with her actions and makes amends to the one she really loves.   
RATING: PG-13   
SPOILERS: Dead Things   


* * *

'Girl, you should go to the Yellow one. He needs to know that you are sorry too!'

"You know what, Mr. Gordo?" She turned back to the bed, picked him back up, then brought him up to her face. "There's someone else I should talk to about this."

'Yes. You should go right now. Yellow needs a good cuddle too.'

"Excuse me Mr. Gordo. I have to see someone." She gently put him back on the bed and Mr. Gordo smiled inside, knowing that he had told her the right thing.

************************************

Buffy's knock was not met with a response. Was he not there? Was he too thrashed to answer? Memories of Spike's broken body flooded her mind. Wasn't that how Xander had described him after his encounter with Glory? Thrashed?

More guilt overcame her and she opened the crypt door, praying not to find him lying in pain.

Is this what she had been reduced to? Physically and mentally attacking a vam…man? The same man she continued to accuse of similar atrocities to those she was now committing? Now who is the beast? Look at who had sex with a being she insisted she did not love. But him? Spike had always been forthcoming with his motives and emotions, hadn't he? He loved her. He protected her. He worshipped her. He adored her. He made love to her. And then he said that wasn't enough. He wanted his love returned. So what did she do? Continued to have 'meaningless' sex with him, denying the man in her life his needs. This was not of the good.

************************************

"Spike?"

No answer. She entered his abode with trepidation.

"Spike?"

She heard no answer, but could have sworn she saw a silhouetted figure bent over a stone slab.

"Spike, can I come in?"

Still no answer. She crept toward him and his actions became clearer. He was writing…or had been. Now he was sitting still, staring at his handiwork.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you. Should I come back another time?"

Out of the shadows came his deep, penetrating voice. "I'm done, pet."

"Oh, okay, good. I just wanted to talk to you for a minute." She continued to advance, but his next words stopped her in her path.

"No. I'm done…with…*this*. Whatever *this* is."

In classic denial, Buffy screwed up her face in confusion. "You mean you're done with what you're writing there?"

Spike suddenly, but obviously painfully, rose, stalking over to her. He was a perfect picture of the vampire of 5 years back. His finger shot out, pointing to her chest, then his. "*THIS*, you bloody chit!" His voice held such pain and anger. For the first time since their first meeting, Buffy felt real fear.

Then, he took on an air of control, as he spoke again as the Spike she knew. "I was writing a letter for you, but we might as well have this out here and now." Buffy opened her mouth, but was promptly cut off. "I really thought…no…I know you have feelings for me. Me. Not just the things I do to you. But I will not continue to be your little puppy dog, following you around, begging for scraps. I've asked you time and time again for more than this…what did you call it? Freak show?" She winced at the two memories of that phrase. "Tonight finally convinced me. You hurt me, Buffy. And not just with the fists and words you spoke. You beat the bloody crap out of me and left me there. I know you were horrified at your actions. But those feelings are all about you, as usual. You weren't pained that you hurt me, just that you hurt something that wasn't fighting back. *Then* you just left me lying there unconscious. Anything could have happened, Buffy. I'm lucky I got out of there before sun up. But then again, you don't even know what happened after you ran off, do you?""

Tears began to fall from the corner of his eye, but he pressed on, determined to say this without changing his mind.

"It's too painful, Buffy." He finally looked up at her, one eye swollen, the other tearing. "I love you beyond what I should be able to feel. I may be Evil, but I think I deserve more than this. My life has been yours for a year now…even when you weren't here. All 147 days. But I need more than this."

Once the pain of his words became unbearable, Spike turned away, grabbing a packed duffle bag. "I'm going by the house to say goodbye to Dawn. You won't be stopping me. If you try, I will kill you. Now, move." He moved to approach the door, but never looked up to see her expression. He knew what would be there. Confusion. Pain. Happiness. Whatever. She didn't even know what to feel anymore.

"Spike!"

He just continued, without faltering.

She was desperate. She had come here to…well, she didn't know exactly what she came here to do, but it certainly wasn't to say goodbye to him. "I told Tara. About us."

"Bloody wonderful for Tara." He didn't slow.

"She wanted to know if I loved you." He stopped.

"And how many times did you deny it, Buffy? Did you raise your voice in disgust, or was she doing that for you?"

"I didn't. She didn't. She…told me it would be alright."

He briefly looked over his shoulder at her. "Smart girl, that one." He then continued his path out the door.

"Spike. You were wrong about me."

"Apparently, ducks."

"Spike! Stop!" She began speaking with fury and demanding, but continued softly and asking. "Please. Let me talk to you. If you still want to go, then I won't stand in your way. I won't even object to you seeing Dawn."

He did stop, but turned to look at her with anger flaring in his eyes. "Like I said. You don't have a choice in that." He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Well, let's hear it. I got places to go. People to eat."

Buffy purposely ignored his posturing, squared off her shoulders and looked him in the eye. "I had Tara research the spell. You know, the spell they used to bring me back? I was certain I came back wrong. You said so, and I thought I couldn't possibly feel the things I do if I were right. I wouldn't be doing the things I've been doing." Spike continued to gaze around the room at anything but her. "You know what she found?"

At that, he did spare her a quick look. "No conscience?"

That hurt. Now it wasn't just her morals screaming at her for being an abusive, self-absorbed person, but the demon who supposedly didn't know right from wrong was telling her as well. Still, she persevered.

"Nothing. She found nothing wrong but some cellular change thingy." She searched his body for a reaction and found none. "Your chip can't identify me as human, but there is nothing wrong with me."

Spike froze in place. That was definitely *not* what he had expected to hear. Now that she knew she was normal, there was no chance in Hell of her loving him. Not that he had any chance to begin with. But her being a little less than human, and him being a little less than demon put them on more equal footing. But no bother. That was why he was leaving in the first place. Spike turned back toward the door and continued out. "That's just bloody great, Buffy! Thanks for the update."

"Spike. You're leaving again."

"That I am."

"I'm not done."

"Yes, you are." He looked over his shoulder at her with great impatience. "You're normal and still too good for likes of me. So just let me go."

Buffy lunged toward his retreating figure and gently restrained his arm. The vampire turned his head just enough to see her in his peripheral vision. His jaw muscle clenched, setting off his cheekbones. "No."

He turned his head all the way and glared at her. "What did you say?"

"Tara said I wasn't wrong. My soul, my body. It's not wrong…but *I* was." His eyes scrunched into a confused expression.

"I've been verbally and physically assaulting you for months now. I was sure you deserved it. You were a demon, pure and simple. Evil and deserving of no better." She took a deep breath, unsure of how much she was prepared to confess. "I did all those things, and there was nothing wrong with me. *I* did those things. *I* told you you didn't love me. *I* beat you with my fists." Tears were now starting to fall down her face. "*I* left you in that alley. I thought that if I turned myself into the police, then I would have paid for all my crimes." Spike was starting to turn his body toward her, his expression softening. "I can't…I have no excuse for any of the things I did." Buffy dropped her head into her hands and openly wept. "What kind of hero am I if I can't even care for those I love?"

On pure instinct, Spike dropped his bag and carefully lead Buffy onto a chair. He knelt at her feet. His emotions were becoming very confusing. Not only did he feel the need to comfort her pain, but he also wished that she would cry like this for hours, just to know what it was like for him all those months.

"I have no one to blame but myself. I've been a terrible friend, sister and lover. What is wrong with me, Spike?" She looked up at him with the desperate look of a lost child. "What is wrong with me?!"

Spike tenderly took her in his arms and uttered little comforting phrases, waiting for a cessation of tears. Why did he ever think he could leave this behind?

"Nothing is wrong now, luv. Not a thing." They sat in that position for nearly a half hour, her weeping, and him rocking her and stroking her hair with one hand.

***************************************

Finally, her anguished sobs stopped. Now would be the point in the conversation where she leapt from his arms and out the door…only…she didn't this time.

"Spike?" Her eyes rose to meet his. She saw it again. His love for her. Despite everything she had done to him, despite all the things she hadn't done for him, love still danced in his eyes. It was a marvel. "I *do* love you."

She gently placed her lips upon his. Those lips blessed him with the most sensual kiss they had ever shared. Their tongues slowly mingled with each other, so desperate to meet on a different level this time. Her hands took either side of his face as she strove to explain just how much she loved him.

And she finally did something right. 


End file.
